


Level 10

by conceptstage



Series: Single Chapter Critical Role [56]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 19:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18288740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptstage/pseuds/conceptstage
Summary: Prompted on tumblr*Here’s a prompt: at level ten, monks gain immunity to poison. To her chagrin, Beau finds that alcohol no longer affects her.*





	Level 10

Caleb startled awake at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. It had definitely been locked when he’d gone to sleep. He subtly reached down to touch Nott’s hair and found her passed out, completely dead to the world against his side. The figure in the light at the doorway was a bit shorter than him, a thin, human body with long hair draping over their shoulders. He called a spell to his fingertips and tried to remain as still and inconspicuous as possible. 

The figure stepped inside and slowly shut the door behind them but they didn’t make for the bed. They made for the bags. Just a thief then? Not an assassin? There was shifting around as he sat up as slowly and silently as possibly.

“Stop right there,” he said, in his best intimidating voice. 

The figure cursed. “Shit,” it said and he instantly relaxed. “For fucks sake, Caleb, you nearly scared the shit out of me.”

“Beau? What the fuck are you doing?” He crawled out of the bed and summoned a single dancing light to illuminate her face. He paused to look back at Nott and found her still knocked out. “What do you need in our bags?”

Beau sighed and tossed her loose hair over her shoulder as she turned back to the bags. “I’m not going through all your secret shit, promise. I’m looking for Nott’s flask.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to get drunk.”

“We just got paid, have you gone through it all already?” But her words weren’t slurred, her eyes were focused… she wasn’t drunk in the least. “Beau, stop that, she’s sleeping with it, it’s not in our bags.”

She stood up and started to walk towards him and the bed but he held up a hand to stop her. She paused and rolled her eyes. “She’s passed out, it won’t wake her up. Don’t be such a mom.”

He frowned. “Beau, why do you need her flask? Can’t you buy booze at the tavern downstairs?”

“I did. I spent seven gold on booze.”

“That’s… a lot.”

“No shit! And I drank it all! It didn’t make me drunk, it just made me throw up. I’m not spending all my gold to not get drunk,” she sneered.

“Exactly how much have you drank tonight?”

“Too much. I feel sick.”

“Then maybe you should stop.”

“I can’t, I have to know why it’s not working. It’s been driving me crazy for days. No matter how much I drink, it doesn’t affect me the way it used to. I feel so… on edge, I have a constant headache, I’m sweating like crazy…”

He stepped forward and pressed his cold hands against her heated cheeks. She looked annoyed but the coolness was refreshing so she instinctively leaned into it. “You’re burning up. You’re going through withdrawal, your body is attempting to detox.” Nott got like this in the beginning when she might go days without a drink. “Usually drinking will help Nott when she gets like this but it seems to be making you worse. Maybe you should stop. You’re rejecting the alcohol. Your body is fighting against it like a toxin.” Something seemed to click in his tired mind. “You’ve been training to withstand toxins lately, haven’t you?”

She frowned. “Yeah. But booze doesn’t count, does it? Please tell me that I haven’t been training my own body to withstand getting drunk, I swear I will cry and if I cry in front of you I will have to kill you.”

“Beau…”

“Oh, don’t give me those eyes, fuck you. Fuck you, you’re wrong. I just need to drink enough booze and I’ll get drunk, I know it.”

“Or you’ll make yourself sick.”

As if on cue, her face turned a sickly shade of green and she ran over to the window, struggling for a moment to throw it open and push her entire upper body out into the night air. He reached out to hold onto her arm in case she started to fall, but she held herself up easily as she vomited into the alley. He sighed and reached over to rub circles on her back. “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” she hissed, still hanging out the window.

“I guess you don’t get to pick and choose which toxins you become immune to.”

“Shut up,” she groaned. “Piss off, kid, what the fuck are you looking at,” she said to someone in the road at the end of the alley. “Oh yeah? Come here and say that to my fucking face you little fucker!”

“Beau,” Caleb said, gently pulling her back in through the window. He shut the window and handed her an old shirt that she’d pulled out of his bags. “Stop yelling at children.”

“He was fucking asking for it.” She took the shirt and wiped her mouth. She sighed and shook her head. “Fuck. This is bullshit.”

“Maybe you should just go to sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning. Caduceus will make you some of his vegetable soup, ja?”

The prospect of Cad’s cooking did seem to make her feel better. “Fine. Getting to sleep is easier when I’m drunk though.” And when he saw her the next morning, her eyes were still sunken and dark and she didn’t look like she’d slept a wink. He sat beside her at the table and awkwardly rubbed her back as she ate soup for breakfast and dodged curious questions. It would get worse before it got better, but he’d be there beside her until then.


End file.
